Uncage the Car Alarms
by sutatikku
Summary: [ AU : roxas & sora ] Well I must say, looking at the bright side would've made this whole situation just that much more tolerable.
1. Prolouge

So, I feel like writing angst. Not your normal angst, but the sarcastic kind of angst where the character is so pessimistic that everything seems bitter and sarcastic. Yeah. I probably wont, but whatever.

It'll be RoxasSora probably. Unless I change my mind – which has _never_ happened in a fic. Yeah, here's the first chapter. I might change POV's eventually.

Enjoy.

**Uncage the Car Alarms**  
_I swear to god I was only kidding…_  
about everything.

What's so wonderful about Mondays?

Maybe, just maybe, you'd get to start a fresh, new exciting day filled with announcements and candy – the best kind – the _lady_ kind.

I'd always **thought** I'd wanted the lady kind, but now as I finally received the candy, I'm filled with a horrible sense of dread. It was like the candy I'd received was _expired_ or just _plain nasty_. I'd bit my lip angrily before yanking my hand off of the thinnest thigh I think I'd ever see.

I'd always thought…

_That it was the only way._

But, on a Monday, what the hell was it the only way for? This candy was more annoying tasting then enjoyable – so was that _the way_?

So, eventually, I began hanging out with girls. There was a difference between them and guys – when you hung out with other guys, you just bummed out in front of a television or played a bogus version of football where _you always lost somehow_ and _losing was always your fault_. The girls wouldn't hang out with **me**, though; they'd hang _on to_ me like I was their lifeline, their thin hands clasped around my upper forearm.

And then they began making up this boyfriend **crap**. I was not one of their boyfriends. I wasn't a _boyfriend_ in general.

All because on that Monday, I'd touched one of their friend's thighs.

Apparently, they were a group of girls that somehow always wanted _me_. So, I became known as _the group_'s boyfriend.

…What the hell did _that_ even _mean_?

I'd even asked one of the girls – the tallest of the group, the _sporty_ one who constantly tried to bed me.

Eventually, I began piecing things together.

First, I wasn't their boyfriend. They wanted me to _get_ a boyfriend. Second, the reason they went shopping with me was because I agreed to – I secretly _enjoyed it_. Third, they thought I was cute.

But I **was not** gay.

«-- **procedure**.

So the first thing I would do everyday is, of course, stress vomit.

I'd wake up, and my stomach would clench. It basically would scream at me, _back down, fucker_. And then, what ever I'd eaten for dinner would back up and tear out of my mouth, spilling into water.

That's when I became sick. My mind would churn, the words on my assignments would blur together, and my pencil would be some imaginary _thing_ that was impossible to hold onto. My body would break out into a sweat, and it all started after second period.

Oh, of course, my **ex**-best friend. He'd grown up, while I'd grown down. He'd risen to the top, with his **amazing** grades, and his **amazing** looks. He was just **full of charm**, and damn, I wanted a piece of it. I told him how jealous I was, right before the summer where he went away.

Yeah, he went away in the summer. He went to some camps when I chilled out at home, and that's when I realized that popularity _does_ get to some people. All the phone conversations we had all ended up being about him, he never, ever did his homework anymore, he began hanging out with the girls that wore earrings bigger than their heads, and he began wearing nice clothes.

I felt a little trapped.

So, when ever I was trapped in the room with _him_ as my lab partner in second period, I'd promptly walk out of the room and puke in the boy's room.

It became part of a routine. Talk to him, go to class, vomit your food.

That's when the girls I hung out with began noticing me becoming sicker.

After awhile, my vomiting became more frequent, like the demons gnawing at my stomach needed to be expelled more often. When I'd look into the mirror, the cheerful little boy that used to be there was replaced by a teenaged kid that looked a bit too pale to be healthy.

And, damn, did I pull off that image good. When I'd walk into my tan and red-themed in-suite bathroom (my mom insisted the colors go together), I'd look in the mirror to inspect the damage. My cheekbones look prominent, like skin was slapped onto a skull. My eyes had dulled from their past exuberant cerulean color to a boring, plain, dead blue.

My bronze skin looked more like off-white. Sometimes, I'd look in the mirror and the vomit would come out faster.

I didn't _choose_ to vomit, it just **happened**. I wasn't sure when, or how, but suddenly my legs would be moving at high-speeds towards somewhere – anywhere and then my head would be over a toilet-bowl, my back arched and the food burning my throat on it's way up.

One of the girls I hung out with, Kairi, walked in on me vomiting once. She was there for dinner – we had a project that we had been partners for. So, when it came time to actually eat dinner, my stomach felt tiny. I mean, it felt _constricted_ – like it was a tiny little thing that wouldn't be able to do it. I was really weak feeling, like my stomach was fragile, and as soon as I even attempted to put food in it, it'd be rejected – like a rash on your skin. That meant part of your body rejected it – but my stomach rejected _food_.

Taking walks outside and walking past vendors and Starbucks and convenience shops – became painful. I'd smell the food, and it would only be a painful reminder of how _weak_ I was, and how I wasn't able to eat something like that.

And, my god, it was more painful receiving pity.

Kairi was by my side, after I'd attempted to bite into my pizza, and I just hurled it back up. She was patting my back, looking entirely scared. I wanted to push her out, and tell her, _no, this is my thing to work on – all by myself_.

I'd done a good job of hiding it. I'd pretend I'd eaten, and when I did and I would vomit it, it would be in my private bathroom. My mom never suspected a thing.

But, when someone broke that little barrier – the little bit of safety you had – it was a terrible feeling. I wiped the bottom of my mouth and flushed the toilet, watching as she brought a hand to her mouth.

I finally spoke up.

"I think… I'm **depressed**."

«-- **precipitation**.

_Did you hear about it? Kairi said that Sora's depressed._

They whispered it around me like it was some kind of disease. I, actually, wouldn't mind if they discussed it aloud. I mean, why _would_ I? Aren't I _depressed_?

I cleared my throat, slamming my fist on the lunch table. A tall one turned around to look down at me, honey brown locks framing her face. What was the term? _A sight for sore eyes_? She was one of those.

Aerith – she was the one who everyone looked up to. She smiled happily, pink lips forming one of those full, infectious smiles. I had immunity to infectious smiles, though.

I had to remind myself. _You weren't always this way_. You just weren't good enough to keep your best friend. You weren't _popular enough_. You weren't _pretty enough_. You weren't _athletic enough_. You weren't _cool enough_. You weren't _smart enough_. You didn't have any _charm_.

And, maybe, just maybe, I may or may not have caught myself staring at boys.

It was like, when they accused me of being gay, I began to **believe it**.

It was like a parasite in the back of my mind, growing and eating at my brain. It was like… spreading _gayness_ to the rest of my body. It was slowly **morphing **me into a homosexual… or something.

The first one that triggered this was a boy I'd seen on one of the walks I went on.

«-- **continuation**.

Okay, for some, walking is just a calming thing.

Unfortunately, when ever I walked it _had_ to be eventful – I _really_ didn't want it to be eventful. Because then I'd get mad and vomit even more and possibly have to go to a therapist.

I was absolutely _not_ going to a shrink.

I didn't need them prying into my life, trying to _help_ me. Yeah, that'd help, actually discussing my problems. Why would that help? So I can acknowledge them? I didn't even know what was making me feel this way.

I must've been pretty pathetic – I was depressed for _no reason_. How lame.

Okay, off the topic of therapists, I actually decided to go on a walk. One of the girls I talked to suggested it – whatever. I didn't really talk to her that much, so when she finally decided to care about me, I took it into consideration.

So, of course, the first thing that happened when I reached the end of the block was zone out and then knocked in the leg by a skateboard. My eyes traveled down to the evil abomination of a skateboard, and I was pretty sure my lips had twisted into a scowl.

Or knowing my facial expressions, probably a babyish pout.

I looked up at the stupid kid who had let their skateboard run into my leg, just before I decided to finally cross the street and continue my walk.

I'd never seen eyes like that before.

I mean, I'd seen those _dazzling_ blue eyes, but I'd never seen such intense blue eyes before. They were placed on an amazingly perfect face, with the smoothest looking bronze skin and blonde hair in disarray, contrasting the skin color.

I looked away and darted across the street.

The world seemed a bit **warmer**.

**A/N**:

It's obvious who the main character is.  
_Am I right?_

**REVIEW PLEASE**.  
I'll love you forever.

Plus, I'll update sooner.


	2. Part 1

**Uncage the Car Alarms**  
Part 1 –  
_Explaining to your significant others.  
(If you don't have one, it's okay to look this over anyways)_

Okay, if anyone asked, I just didn't _do_ school to fail.

When I received my first 70 in my life, _ever_, I nearly vomited right there. It stared back at me, thick, dark red letters spelling a sure doom for me. It was horrible – It wasn't a 70, like 70 dollars, or like 70 people. It was a seventy meaning you _failed_ by thirty points. It also meant that if you were one point lower, you'd have a D, and five points below that, you actually _had_ failed.

My stomach sunk so low and my heart felt so heavy I thought I'd burst.

I felt my eyes sting and my shoulder shake and I felt sick all over again. It was telling me I was just that close to failing, that I could've failed _that_ easily. I did so terribly, I was _that_ useless.

I was ashamed.

That's when Riku spoke to me for the first time – more than a "hello" or "pass that" or "want to be my partner for this assignment?" He chimed, voice absolutely smooth, "Didn't do to hot, did you?" he asked, _teasing me_.

I felt my face burn with shame, and I swung my legs on the chair absently, pretending to kick something. I merely shrugged in response, peeking a glance at him. He was at the seat beside me – but he never had actually _talked_ to me.

I didn't know what to say to him. Should I say something more? Should I just continue this conversation?

But that didn't matter. The bell rang and I was out of there.

«-- **sinking**.

The water was rising up and I was falling under the waves.

I told Kairi this, and she merely said I was a good poet but annoying kid. I agreed silently, yeah, I was good at being annoying, I thought. Wow, I was actually _good_ at something.

She said, "Oh, but Sora, you aren't annoying."

Oh, so I wasn't even good at being annoying.

«-- **staying**.

"Sora, you should see a therapist."

I '_hmph_' at Kairi, who is seated next to me, before playing with the buttons on my cell phone. I don't know _why_, but playing with my cell phone amuses me. I'd had the same crappy cell phone and the same almost not-memorize-able phone number. My mom didn't want to get me a new one, and I didn't really care. You know, I didn't really even _use_ the thing that often, I just liked pushing the buttons on it. Lighting up the screen made me feel like I'd actually done something, only it didn't matter. One of those things you can control, but it didn't matter if you couldn't. I like that feeling.

Kairi continues talking, spreading her fingers into the carpet. I can't really distinguish what she's talking about from what she was talking about moments before, and I can't really find myself listening. I continue pressing buttons on my cell phone, ignoring the TV screen, but getting annoyed when the glow from the screen made the broken screen on my cell phone hard to look at.

I'd had the same cell phone since seventh grade. I realized I'd probably have to get a new one – maybe one of those flip phones, not my blocky one that can't fit into my jean pocket.

Kairi finally says something new. "Sora, you've changed."

I look at her, forcing a skeptical look onto my features. "…Huh," I manage, only sounding like I acknowledged it and not given it thought.

"Well," she continues talking, "I mean; you have an effect when you're talking. You seem… apathetic."

_Funny_, apathetic is really close to pathetic.

I give her a Sora-answer. "That's cool… I guess."

She makes a face at me, one that could mean _you're such a dick!_ Or maybe even _I'm going to cut off your balls! _It was enraged, but then was cut down and replaced with a look of worry. "Sora, are you listening?"

Yeah, for the first time ever.

I nod my head and absently continue pressing buttons.

She seems to get that I actually _am_ listening, and continues talking. "When I first met you, you were really energetic."

O-_ho_.

She was getting somewhere.

"I mean, you'd be able to talk for hours. I'm going to ask this. How are you?"

Something about the way she phrased it causes me to chuckle. I wonder, that if I listened to my chuckle, I'd wonder if it sounded different, like she said, _apathetic_. Like, whoa, girl, I don't care.

I shrug, but answer. "Bored."

This reminds me of a conversation I had with Riku. He was interrogating me – this was when I wouldn't ever, _ever_ shut up – and I was actually quiet for once. He was prying me to find out things, and then, after it all, he merely asked, "How are you?"

I was bored, that's all.

I was bored that I wasn't changing after this. I had _already_ screwed up my life, and I was bored of being a screw-up. But I was lazy, too, and, whoa, I couldn't do anything about that. I was too lazy to make myself change.

"Sora, do you want to go shopping with me?"

"Yeah, but first, let me put on my hoodie."

I glanced around until I found my favorite hoodie – I think it was made by _Vans_ or something – and slip it over my head. Kairi gives me one of her pretty smiles, and her periwinkle eyes light up.

She's probably the most tolerate-able person I know. I don't think I've ever gotten mad at her.

«-- **changing**.

Shopping is a relief. The feeling of getting new things is thrilling, especially when you like the new things. Every time I go to Foot Locker or a random _guy_ store, I feel like a kid in a candy shop, with money, of course. I always had my allowance in my pocket – my whole $35 dollars – and I'd shop with friends.

Kairi would come into my guy shops; I'd go into her girl shops. It was a silent agreement we'd made awhile back – I don't know, when I'd started high school. It's good when you go shopping with a friend, because you have someone to talk to when you're bored. When you're alone, you're always on a cell phone, which causes you to miss important things.

I did not want to be a bitch walking around on with a cell phone. How _lame_.

Kairi and I were in one of her stores – Forever 21, I think. She was looking at this one blue dress with a bunch of flowers on it. It was a childish dress, kind of, but I liked it.

When she went to go try on her dress, a long _ping!_ erupted from my pants.

No, I did _not_ orgasm with a _ping!_ noise. What the hell would that be?

I reach in my pocket and pull out my chunky cell phone, that I still haven't gotten a new number for. Which is weird, seeing as someone I knew in sixth grade could still have my number.

I press the plastic 'talk' button, and hold it to my ear.

"Hello?" I say, knowing that if someone called your personal cell phone, you didn't have to give your name.

"Sora? Is that you?"

No, it's the president being a secret agent in Sora's body, person.

"…Who is this?" I ask, feeling a bit annoyed. I eliminated all the girls I knew – this was not a girl's voice. That would be freaky, considering how deep it was. I'm betting it was three octaves below mine – or less. I don't really know about music.

After a whole two seconds, the person revealed themselves. "Riku."

Holy crap!

Riku was calling _me_? I don't know why, but this freaked me out. I mean, it seriously _freaked me out_. We hadn't had a real conversation since like the eight grade, so why the hell would we now?

It takes me a whole three seconds to realize that I hadn't said anything. I finally reply, "What's up?"

There. That seems normal enough.

"I found your number in my phonebook."

Wow Riku, what a good reason to interrupt my trip to the mall. I switch my phone from ear to ear.

He talks again, knowing I wouldn't know what to say. "What're you doing right now?"

Right before I can say _shopping_, I realize how homosexual that would sound. I express 'shopping' in the most manly way I can think of on the spot. "Getting new jeans."

That didn't seem sprinkled in fairy dust.

"That's nice," Riku pauses, and I can hear him take a deep breath. "Sora, I realize I haven't really talked to you… in awhile."

Yeah, two years, buddy.

"And… you chose to observe this now… why?" I ask, sounding really bitter. I don't know why – I'm not mad at Riku, I just miss him.

I remember when we used to do _everything _together. When he just stopped hanging out with me, I was kind of, well, fucked up.

"Sora, don't give me that shit."

I'm all, _Ooh_, vulgar language. I must feel insulted for two seconds.

He talks again, sounding a bit disappointed. "Look, I don't want to get off on a bad note with you. What I'm trying to say – ask is, are you alright, man?"

Since when was I a man?

I decide to not be so snotty, and answer, "I'm cool." I was obviously lying, I was far from cool. I wasn't popular, I wasn't happy, I wasn't calm, I wasn't cold.

Wow, I'm pretty much a dick.

"Well, you know Sora, you sound different."

I can't help it.

I reply, "Well, you know, I just happen to have, well, _aged_ since I last talked to you, and with this _aging_, I happen to have something called _testosterone_ in my body. It tends to lengthen vocal chords after you've _aged_, thus causing my voice to deepen."

I explain this to him like he's retarded.

I can tell he's pissed.

"Thanks for the explanation, but that's not what I mean," he states, voice deadpan. "Well, your voice _did_ get deeper, I'll tell you that, but I mean, the way you talk sounds different."

Okay, what the heck does that mean?

"I mean, you used to sound happy. But now you sound…"

I fill in for him. "Apathetic."

He pauses, and I realize it seemed like I was setting him up to pity me. I chuckle. "Kairi just told me that, like, forty minutes ago."

He sighs. "Oh."

Yeah, uh, our conversation was going nowhere.

And, plus, Kairi was already at the cash register, and I was still sitting on the same chair outside the dressing room. "Yeah, well Riku," I look at the clock over the door way to the dressing room, "I'm going to say that I have to get off the phone. I, uh, am watching my minutes."

I, honestly, never had to watch my cell phone minutes.

I press 'end', knowing that, wow, I'd connected to Riku.

I'm pretty terrible at sarcasm.

«-- **monitoring**.

Now that I got new jeans, me and Kairi had decided to go on a walk. I guess at first glance, it'd look like we were a couple.

I didn't really want to get into a relationship. I'd probably end up more screwed up than I was when I decided I was depressed.

Kairi's watching me eat my bag of potato chips, because I actually don't feel my stomach closing up. Meaning I didn't feel really unhappy.

Meaning I was in a decent mood.

I look down at her (since when was I that much taller than her?) and give her an inquisitive glance. She looks away, but then her eyes are glued to something else.

She's looking at a person, I can tell.

I follow her gaze to find her looking at a boy with blonde hair.

…And I find him familiar.

Oh, he's the kid who hit me with the skateboard. I was about to tell Kairi this, but then he turns around, and meets my gaze.

I'm like, _fuck_! I quickly look at my bag of potato chips, not wanting to look into those intense blue eyes any longer. They kind of frighten me, because when I look in them, I feel my stomach jump.

I felt like I was about to vomit.

Kairi's not staring at him any longer, and has gone back to staring at me. She finally speaks, and says, "I think I know him."

I pretend to not care, but the not care where you pretend to care. "Oh, really?"

She gives me a humorless look. "Yeah, I think he goes to a different high school. He was on the town's basketball team."

Oh, and Kairi was a cheerleader. That would explain it. She slept with him.

I chuckle. "Did you sleep with him?"

She looks shocked and flustered and mad and sad. "No!"

I believed her.

She stops looking so expressive for a moment, and chews loudly on her bubble gum (which I didn't see her unwrap) and she's all, "His name's Roxas. He's actually pretty decent when it comes to shooting."

…Does that mean he scores?

She says something that only a girl would say. "I'm pretty positive he's gay."

I laugh. It seemed really random, you know? "I'm sure he appreciates that comment."

I look up to find out that he's gone, and I'm both disappointed and glad that I only caught one glimpse of his eyes.

Kairi babbles about this girl named Naminé, and I could care less. I wanted to know more about Roxas.

«-- **connecting**.

I actually, for once, wished I'd listened to Kairi's babbling.

Okay, so first, Naminé was Roxas' cousin, and she'd forgotten to mention that. Second, Naminé was a total _babe_. Third, Naminé was an artist, and went to some super fancy art school.

Kairi explained this to me when I gaped at her.

I wasn't expecting to find a random, hot, blonde chick standing in Kairi's bedroom when I got there. Naminé was Kairi's mom's friend's daughter. When Kairi left the room to get sodas, Naminé started talking to me.

"So, you're Sora?" she asks, like someone she knows talks about me. "That's your name, right?"

I nod my head. "Yeah. And you're Roxas' cousin."

I don't think she knew I knew Roxas.

She blinks her pale blue eyes, looking oddly like a kitten. It's adorable, I think. I'd never thought a girl was adorable before.

I don't think I'd ever, well, like _liked_ a girl.

"You know Roxas?" she asks innocently, and I felt my heart warming. She is just too _awesome_.

I wonder if she's single.

"No, not really," I admit, looking directly into her eyes in a noninvasive kind of way. I move the muscles that make me smile. "Kairi told me about him when we saw him."

I'm better at telling the truth.

"Oh, I see." Naminé says, giving me the prettiest smile I'd ever seen. I'm pretty sure my heart rate speeded up times infinity, because I stopped feeling it. Either it stopped or it was going _super fast_.

My mind stopped making sense. Wow, she's pretty, was all I can think.

My fifteen year old body says, "So, Naminé, are you single?"

She laughs and nods her head, like she knows what's about to happen.

I take out my loneliness on the blonde and don't notice when Kairi opens the door and shuts it quickly.

**A/N**:

Naminé actually won't play a big role in the story. Sora's just taking out his angst on her, you know, curing his loneliness in a healthier way.

Which is good.

Be happy for him, he might get to talk to Roxas next chapter. xD

This _is_ a RoxasSora fic, but I needed Naminé in there to add more confusion for Sora. Which causes him to be stressed, you know it.

And, of course, Riku. He's playing a large role in this story, seeing as…

I won't ruin anything, I swear it.

He just kind of is there, reminding Sora. He'll play a huge role.

**AND THANKS FOR REVIEWING.**


	3. Part 2

_uncage the car alarms_  
- - - - - - - - - - - -  
**part two  
**let's sort this out, stay calm.

* * *

Riku was always a lot cooler than me. He always had better fashion sense.

I'd come to school with my normal Sora clothes, and he'd have some designer something, a designer something that _didn't_ seem gay. I don't think I'd be able to wear anything like he did. One, I couldn't fill it out. Two, I'd seem really homosexual.

Riku was always more muscular.

Instead of testosterone helping me, I just got _lankier_. How pathetic is that? He was able to look like he worked out… and I looked like a little _boy_. I had a _boyish_ chest, and _boyish_, _twiggy_ arms.

Third, Riku had more… charm.

He didn't trip when he was walking. He had an attractive voice, body, face, and poise. He didn't stumble on his words. He didn't miss homework. He didn't drop things. He didn't _fail_. He didn't ever slip. He didn't ever do _bad _things, but he was still _cool_.

I began to understand why he wasn't my friend anymore. I wasn't charming, I wasn't muscular, and I didn't have good fashion.

I was a **whiny boy**.

And, baby, that wasn't getting me anywhere.

«-- **state the obvious**.

The entire day after I scored with Naminé was a day I didn't want to repeat.

When I sat next to Riku in Chemistry, he flat out ignored me. It was like I wasn't there, like I was _invisible_. He looked past me, like I was a window, and I was merely the glass separating him from the rest of the world. He didn't talk to me, he didn't hand me a pencil, and he didn't ask to be my partner.

He didn't comment on my 87 I'd earned, either.

Maybe he was stoned? I didn't know, but I did know I was being ignored.

I told Kairi this.

She was still mad at me from before – we were going to **Bed, Bath, and Beyond** to get her new bed sheets. Wow, was I that bad? I mean, there were, granted, several stains from when I, well, fucked Naminé.

She was also mad because this meant I wasn't gay.

I explained this to her carefully, when she sat next to me, like usual.

"Well, I'm pretty damn sure I'm just _bi-sexual_."

«-- **make-believe**.

I hated most trends for those boys that thought they were girls. You know, eyeliner, dyed black hair, girl jeans – my god, just be a transvestite. How awful, it was killing your manliness.

Weren't… like, they all gay or something?

But there was one trend I found myself wishing I was part of.

Lip-rings.

I was wondering, all day, before we went to the mall, how I'd look with a silver ring on the bottom lip, on the left. You know, it _was_ pretty sexy.

So, when I got it pierced and my mouth swelled up, Kairi was a little quizzical. I met her in one of her girl shops – I was only out for a whole ten minutes. When I came in with a ring on the bottom lip – to the left – she seemed shocked.

"Oh my **god**, Sora. That is _so_ hot."

I'd never seen her done Paris Hilton impressions before. I wonder if this meant she liked it.

She whipped out her cell phone and took a picture of my lips.

I smiled, and with awkwardness, managed to say, "I like these rings. They're cool." I said, wondering if my voice sounded apathetic still.

_Riku wasn't talking to me. Riku forgot I existed._

My stomach lurched and I darted out of the store, right to the boy's room, and promptly puked. My stomach was empty, and even though I had the new ring, I knew Riku wouldn't talk to me, and that I didn't exist to him.

I wretched again before flushing the toilet.

When I came back to that girly store, Kairi was standing there, looking concerned, a new pink bag in her hands. I smiled weakly, feeling my stomach churn and my eyes water.

She asked it again. "How are you, man? You okay?"

I nodded weakly. "Yeah, let's go."

It didn't feel like my neck could support my head, and my legs weren't moving because I wanted to, but because I had to follow Kairi. Only Kairi, I'd thought. I'm doing this for Kairi.

«-- **come to life**.

I got hit in the leg… with the skateboard. Again.

That meant Roxas was here.

I looked up, finding him only five feet away from me. Instead of the previous curious looks that made me so excited and anxious I'd be sick, I got a cross look. He sneered.

I blinked my eyes, and said, "Uh, hello there."

He didn't seem pleased. "You're Sora? You're the one who took away Naminé's virginity." He spat, seeming to hate me, like, _real_ loathing.

Wait. That was her _first time_?

…Mine too.

I shrug. "It was my first time, too." I admitted, maybe so he wouldn't be so mad. My tongue met my lip-ring, just to make sure it was there. It'd only been there for an hour now, but now it wasn't swollen any more. It was just… there.

I liked it there. It made it feel like something was real.

His fists clenched and went to his side. His eyes briefly went to my lip-ring (was it weird?) and he frowned, no longer seeming filled with disgust. "Don't do that." He said, finally, and a bit lamely.

I move the muscles that made me smile. "Sorry. Tell her I'm sorry."

He seemed to ease up finally. I was still a block from my house – just like before. Did he like… chill out by my block or something? That's kind of weird, I think. He grins happily, a full smile. "Nah, she just won't shut up about you. I knew who she was talking about, though."

"Oh?"

He nods. "Yeah, I mean, we run into each other a lot. Plus, you're Riku's friend. I've talked to him a few times – he told me about you."

Wait.

Riku _talked_ about _me_? I'm suddenly very worried about my reputation.

"What did he say?" I ask, feeling my throat close up.

Roxas falls silent, lips pursed. His face looks all screwed up when he purses his lips – and I want him to grin again – anything to get this almost-unattractive look off his face. When he grinned, it was just so pleasant.

Please stop looking unhappy, Roxas.

I finally worry about myself again. Did this mean that Riku said _bad things_ about me? I tell him, "I haven't really talked to Riku much lately. I don't think he notices me anymore."

That _was_ how I felt.

Suddenly, I felt the sick feeling rise in my stomach again.

Roxas finally shrugs. "Well, uh, Sora, wanna hang out tomorrow? You know, hit the arcade or… _something_."

I felt my dick go hard, seeing as "something" processed as, 'cock-sucking.' And, man, Roxas seemed like he'd be good – I mean, uh, if he was into _guys_.

Wait, I _so_ wasn't into guys. No, wait, I was aroused. I **was** into guys. Hah. Yes. No.

Yeah, forget about it.

I nod my head, and we made plans for next Thursday.

«-- **growing**.

Kairi laughs.

My insides crumbled with humiliation and I felt my face go red. I uncrossed my legs and crossed my arms over my chest, glaring. "Ah, and why is this funny?"

"You just seemed _so_ excited about it, Sora. Haha, it's not even a _date_, is it…?"

I frown and shrug. "Arcades aren't the most romantic things, Kairi."

Like usual, we were seated in front of the television, on the floor (because we're ghetto only not) and I'd told her about my plans. She's being lame, though, and laughing.

Kairi giggles and winks. "So, did you get a boner when talking to him?"

That she-devil. "Uh, maybe."

She laughs and stands up, looking for my house phone (since her cell phone was lost, like usual). I stand up and grab her arm, trying to scowl and look scary.

She laughs harder.

I stand to my full height and scold her. "Hey, that's uh, really, really lame. Don't." Wow, I sound menacing.

But I was distracted. When was _I _so much taller than her? It was like, a whole foot! Only not! But still, I used to be only an inch taller than her – since when was it several?

She didn't seem as impressed as I was about my height.

«-- **planning ahead**.

I'd never, ah, been on a date.

But asking _Yuffie_ for help wasn't the best idea. She's probably the laziest, and not to mention the biggest tom-boy I know. She was scene, though, and that was _why_ I asked her. I like scene kids. They're pretty.

Well, I like scene girls. I don't like girly boys, not at all. Looking at them makes me sad and proud at the same time. Sad because they're so depressed, like me, which makes me realize how pathetic existence really _is_. Proud because I don't dress like a pussy.

I don't understand why they get a whole lot of girlfriends.

They're probably gay.

But back to Yuffie – she's standing in front of me, beaming. "Oh, Sora! You got a date! How _awesome_ is that? Oh, I bet it'll be so hot."

She's fucking crazy.

I attempt to calm her down. "Uh, I'm not going on a date. I just need some advice for clothes."

She dove into my closet.

«-- **finding out your peeves**.

Oh, _hell_ no.

I was not dressing like some scene retard. Emo. Whatever. It's lame.

These jeans don't have space. I just don't get them. And this t-shirt probably belongs to a nine year old. I hate it. I hate _it_.

I push her out of my room, but she doesn't budge. She's like, nailing her feet to the floor. I shrug and pull out the vest-part of a 3-piece suit. It's coal gray and has white pinstripes – I like it. I wear it over a white button up shirt and a pair of jeans.

Whatever.

It looks really crappy, especially when I slip on my sneakers. I shrugged and headed towards the television. Yuffie follows me, like a baby duck to its mom. What a freaky-ass girl. I turn to look at her and I shrug. "Yeah, uh, who cares?"

She laughs.

«-- **compromise**.

I sneak a glance at Roxas. I had no idea he could drive, until, well, he arrived in a car. I grin and relax into the comfy chairs. "Wow, you can drive!" I haven't felt this elated in awhile. "Now you _know_ you have to drive me around when I'm hungry."

He's bogus. "You can ride me – **it** anytime, as long as it's convenient to me."

Did he just say I can _ride_ him? Okay, not so subtle are you, Roxas?

I laugh nervously. My hormones are acting up, so I roll down the window for a distraction. "Cool. I will use that against you."

He laughs nervously.

We both suck at conversations, apparently.

I glance at him. "Hey, do you have any gum?"

He shakes his head 'no'. I frown and say, "Lame."

He chuckles, like he's amused that I'm even talking to me. I frown and furrow my brow absently as I look out the window. I completely zone out – it's like, who cares, you're next to the kid you've been lusting over for a few weeks now, but you can still be a space cadet.

Okay, I'm starting to wonder if these damn streetlights are planning against me. They keep on going on red, and my hormones aren't getting better. My dick is starting to hurt from being pressed down by my pants.

I bite my bottom lip, nervously. It's nasty because I begin chewing on it. I then decide, screw the quiet, you're with your crush, talk to him. My conscious is starting to remind me of my grandma… or some_thing_.

"So, you know… Do you play DDR?"

He shakes his head. "Not really. I like shooting games a bit more."

I shrug. "That's wonderful. I hate shooting games," I admit. "We'll have to make a deal—" I finally examine his band t-shirt and jeans "—I'll play a round of one of those shooting games if you attempt DDR."

He shrugs. Okay, that's a yes, and if it isn't, he sucks anyways.

Silence settles again, so I decide to figure out his orientation. I guess I'll have to be subtle and sneaky, right? "So," I begin, shuffling in my seat. "Are you, you know, **gay**?"

I'm so awesome at that.

He clears his throat. "Are you?" _Oooh_, counter-question. He's skilled.

"Didn't I have sex with your cousin?" I'm even better at it.

"Yeah, I'm gay." He admits, glancing at me from the corner of his eyes, yet somehow still steering. He's way good at multitasking.

But I laugh. "Good. Because it'd suck that I—"

I'm stupid – why was I going to tell him about my **erection**? Did I want to be seen as a flaming homo? I feel my face heat up with embarrassment and put my feet on the dashboard. I smile nervously. "—I didn't dress nice. I didn't know it was a date."

I'm being an asshole. Crap. How can I being like a girl with my mood swings sometimes? My depression is acting up right now.

* * *

lol i hate this chapter. 

review.


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